First Kiss
by clarembees
Summary: Rex Balsom's friendship with Aubrey Wentworth takes that tentative step to becoming something more when they share their first kiss.


_Author's Note: Rex and Aubrey are my new favorite thing right now, so I thought I'd try my hand at writing them. I've never written Rex before so I apologize if he's OOC. As far as this fic goes, Rex knows all about "Gigi" really being Stacey with plastic surgery, so she and Cutter are gone, like I really wish they were, LOL._

**First Kiss**

**Rex and Aubrey, OLTL**

**One Shot**

It's all so familiar now; the two of them sitting across from each other on the plush carpet of the Buchanan mansion's living room, cards in hand, serious looks on their faces.

She's become a permanent fixture in his life and his son's too. When it happened, he doesn't really know. It's like he just woke up one day and there she was with her long flowing platinum hair, cherubic face, big blue eyes, bright smile and that ability to make him feel alive. Before her he hadn't been _living_. He had been a shell of himself and then he turned into someone he didn't recognize, someone _all_ too much like the father who didn't want him; hell bent on revenge, blind with hate, angry and raging.

_Now_ – thanks to her – he feels like he's back to his old self. He's smiling _more_ than he has in months, cracking jokes, hanging out with Natalie and Roxy, working again, and trying to be the Dad he knows Gigi would want him to be for Shane.

It feels good; like a weight's been lifted from his shoulders, like he can _finally_ breathe. He's happy, and he never thought he'd get the chance to be happy again.

"You're awful quiet over there, Rex." Aubrey's suspicious voice jars Rex out of his head, his eyes going wide as he rapidly blinks.

Settling himself, his chiseled features turn comically haughty just like his voice, "I'm thinking. Don't you know? You can't rush _greatness_."

She laughs that whimsical, wind-chimey laugh of hers; the one that sends goose bumps popping along his skin and rolls her eyes. "Right," She elongates the word, shaking her head. "The _only_ thing you're thinking about is how to cheat; as usual."

His eyes nearly bug out of his head when suddenly she leans over the cards that lay between them, her fresh scent invading his nose and her warm breath skirting across the skin of his face. He tries _really _hard to stop his eyes from wandering away from hers, but the tight fitting blue sweater she's wearing is too tempting. He casts a quick look downward, his body growing warm from how the fabric conforms perfectly to the swells of her pert breasts, and swallows thickly.

"Remember," He hears her whisper tauntingly, bright smile playing at her pink lips. "_You're_ not the _only_ reformed con artist in the room."

He closes his eyes for a moment, committing her scent to memory and when he opens them, she's back to sitting across from him, legs folded Indian style and looking too damn innocent as she surveys the cards in her hands.

Shaking off her taunting, he arches his brow slowly and questions, "Like you said, _I'm_ not the _only_ reformed con artist in the room, so how do I know _you're_ not the one who's cheating? Hmmmmm?"

Her blue eyes twinkle with mischief. "I don't know." She shrugs. "Guess you'll just have to trust me, won't you?"

Eventually the game ends the way all their poker games do; he reveals his hiding place for the King of Spades (up his sleeve) and she reveals hers for the Queen of hearts (in her palm), and they laugh. His laughter dies down first, and the flush of her cheeks – warm and rosy – catches his attention like it never has before, making his lips curve into a soft smile. His stomach even dips and tumbles like he's riding a roller coaster, and it's like he's been hit by a lightning bolt; her beauty catching him off guard in the same how easily she's fit into his life has.

Her cute little button nose scrunches, her brows furrowing together as she asks, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me." She says, his face growing hot because she caught him.

"Yeah, well, you know," He starts to say, tripping over his words. Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out and reaches into his bag of tricks for one of the many lines he used way back when. He's sure his eyes are sparkling and the grin on his lips – showing all thirty two of his white teeth – is flirty when he says, "I can't help it if I _appreciate_ the _finer _things in life, can I?"

He waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly and she bursts into a fit of laughter, her tiny frame shaking. When she recovers, she leans over and punches him in the shoulder causing him to shout, "Hey," as he pouts and rubs the spot.

"Please." She rolls her eyes, rising to her feet. "That didn't even hurt. But _seriously,_ that line you just laid on me, _actually_ worked for you when you were grifting?"

"Duh." He remarked his tone obvious as he moved to stand up.

"Yeah, like I believe that." She scoffs, shaking her head. "You lucked out with your pretty face, and you know it."

"Pretty face, huh?" This time instead of waggling his eyebrows like a cartoon, he bats his absurdly long eyelashes like one, and she's laughing all over again.

"I've never laughed so much." She admits moments later, her voice soft and floating to his ears.

Her big blue eyes are peeking from underneath her velvet lashes and her teeth tug on the plump skin of her bottom lip for a moment before she runs her fingers through the flowing waves of her platinum hair. "I'm gonna get going; it's late." She says absently, gesturing to the clock on the wall.

He nods, trying not to stare as she bends over to get her purse that's on the couch. But just like earlier, he can't stop himself, and he's swallowing thickly all over again; the view from behind is just as good as the front. He follows her to the door, his eyes drawn to the swish of her small hips with every step she takes and he doesn't realize how close he's been walking behind her, until she turns around.

Her petite frame is suddenly pressed against him, and his heart is thumping so loud in his chest he swears she can hear it to.

"Rex," His name tumbles off those pink lips of hers, and he feels as old as his son. He's like some inexperienced high school kid who has no clue what to do when the beautiful girl is staring at him. His palms are sweaty, his mind is going a million miles per hour, and he wants to say something, but his mouth is dry and his throat is tight; so he just stares at her like an idiot.

"If you want to kiss me," Her voice is teasing and light, making him relax just a little. "You can. I don't bite."

He laughs, his whole body relaxing when she joins in. He stops when he feels her hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders, and it's not long before one snakes up the back of his neck, fingers sinking into his hair and pulling him down so their lips are almost touching.

"Aubrey," Her name leaves his lips breathless and ragged. He hasn't been here – wanting to kiss someone, to want someone to kiss him – in months, and part of him thinks it's too soon and another part thinks it isn't because it's her.

He doesn't know if he moved first or if she did, all he knows is they're kissing, and it feels right. It's soft and slow and lingering, hitting all the perfect notes that a first kiss does. He trails his fingers over her cheek when it's over, his chest swelling with pride at the blush that fills her pale skin, and he's pretty sure there's some kind of goofy smile on his face; one that probably looks a lot like the one on her face.

_Note: I thought about writing more, but I like leaving it where it is. They'll be a related one shot up soon, though. Hopefully that one will be better since I think this is kinda lame, like the title._


End file.
